You Reap What You Sow
by Socrates7727
Summary: He needed the money. That was probably the only thing that could have made Stiles drive fifty miles to some ranch in the middle of nowhere and perform manual labor. But, when he doesn't mix well with the other summer hires, his only other option is the permanent hands. Particularly, one named Derek. Rated M for later chapters, Sterek guaranteed, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

AN I don't own Teen Wolf of any of its characters! Enjoy! Sterek guaranteed. Already written, just not edited, so updates will be fast.

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 _We need the money, Stiles_. When didn't they need the money? His dad took triple shifts because 72 hours straight was the legal workload limit. He had a job at the Starbucks in town but it didn't pay well enough. This was the solution, he'd said. A ranch hand. Somehow, it paid almost triple what the starbucks job did but it was a live in job and Stiles could guess that it was a shit ton of work.

So, on June 21, the day after graduation, Stiles got on a bus to the middle of Southern ranch was… enormous. Miles and miles of pastures and fields, full of cows and horses of every color and every size. Honestly, Stiles could not believe that so _much_ existed outside the boundaries of Beacon Hills because, if he had just woken up out here, he would have thought he was in an entirely different state. To be completely honest, the first few days went by in a blur. There were two stalls in the back of the main barn that held bunkbeds for the 'interns', which was what they called the temporary hands. Stiles had never really considered himself a city slicker but, out here, surrounded by the other interns who all knew what they were doing and hated that he didn't? He sure felt like one.

The permanent hands were like a class above them, being trusted with more and being housed in the main house, they were treated more like their bosses than their equals. But he never met any of them. They didn't mix with the interns and, truthfully, it was reminiscent of some West Side story rivalry. He thought he could probably go the entire three months without seeing a single one of their faces-hell, the other interns didn't even talk to him unless they were yelling at him. At least, he thought that.

Until he was helping with the morning feed rounds and tossed a bale down from the hayloft. Right onto one of the permanent hands. Thankfully, he was okay, judging by how quickly he threw it off of him and jumped to his feet, but his black hair and sharp jaw did nothing to prepare Stiles for the sheer _anger_. His face morphed into a mask of anger and his entire body just shook with rage. He screamed at Stiles and cussed him out and threatened everything from his life to his balls and Stiles was actually scared. There was something so visceral-deep in his gut-that screamed at him to run. He couldn't breathe. The man's face went red with rage and he advanced on him, screaming obscenities, but for a second Stiles was face to face with Rafael McCall. His stomach dropped, he wanted to throw up. Mr. McCall wasn't something he ever thought he'd be afraid of again.

"Cool it, Lance!" And suddenly, there was another man. Bigger, broader, with a subtle kind of muscle that was smooth and not excessive. He yanked Mr. McCall away from the ladder. Then, there was just the same young farm hand from before with dark hair and a red face. Lance. The new guy pulled him off and threw him at the door, yelling at him to take a walk. Stiles swallowed hard, trying to breathe.

"Tha- Thank you," But his savior rounded on him, eyes flared with bitter frustration.

"Don't thank me!" he hissed, glaring. "What you did was stupid. You're lucky that he wasn't hurt. If you're going to be so reckless, you should find an office job or something for the summer." With that, he walked away. Stiles gaped, taken aback, because what the hell? But the hand was gone as quickly as the first.

He hated the hands from that moment on. Until he met Liz. Liz was one of the permanent hands but she was nice, actually, and talkative and she was… kind to him. She welcomed him rather than yelling or accusing him of being a stupid city boy. He was measuring out calfmana when she popped up from behind one of the stall doors and held out her hand. But he knew, now, to be careful with the hands.

"Thanks, but I'm in a bit of a hurry." She was undetered, though, and just smiled and picked up another bucket and started measuring out portions of a white powder Stiles hadn't even gotten to on the list yet.

"No biggie, let me help. I'm Liz, by the way. What's your name?"

"Stiles." She had short red hair that the hay latched onto like glue. It didn't make her smile falter though, she just tipped her head and shook like a dog until it began to fall to the cement.

"Sorry they're all prissy little bitches." Stiles did a double take, staring at her because what the hell? "The other hands, I mean. I'm guessing that's why you don't want to talk to me. Sometimes the testosterone gets to their heads, I think, but then again Mira is just as pretentious when it comes to all you summer interns. They know they're Lady Kremaline's favorites." Liz looked to him, as if waiting for him to nod that he understood, but he didn't understand at all so he just shrugged and moved back to the grain. She seemed nice, but it was better safe than sorry.

"Aren't you one of the favorites, then?" Okay, Stiles, that was not playing it safe! What in the name of everything possessed him to think that snapping back at her was a good idea?! But Liz just laughed. With a smile that never seemed to fade, she flicked a piece of grain at him.

"Yeah, I suppose I am. I never really saw the need to make a big deal about it though. It's not like any of us are in danger of being replaced or kicked out. Mom says it's just because they're insecure but I never understood it, personally." She sounded… reasonable. Almost logical? But that didn't make any sense.

"Wait, mom?" Stiles didn't realize until he said it that his mind had caught that. She called Lady Kremaline _mom_?" She laughed again, that light, easy, airy sound that was on the dangerous side of disarming.

"Yeah, Lady Kremaline to most, I suppose, but mom to me. Sidney to the permanent hands. I grew up here and I never wanted anything but a job here so I don't understand why they get jealous when she offers that same opportunity to others. But, like she says, a lot of them came from less stable backgrounds. They're afraid of one of the newcomers stealing their place. It doesn't matter how much we tell them that they're family and they aren't replaceable… But I'm the daughter, so what do I know?" She shrugged, momentarily solemn before shaking her usual smile back into place. "It's fine, though. They'll get over it just like they do every year. There will always be a few that are never accepted, but you don't strike me as one of those types." Oh, right Stiles definitely wasn't going to be one of the hated ones. He was already halfway there, it seemed.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Two of them already hate me because I dropped a bale of alfalfa on Lance. Cussed me out for almost ten minutes. Then another came and got him to lay off which I thought was good? But he turned on me too. Safe to say I'm not going to be one of the favorites." Liz stopped, staring at him.

"You dropped a bale of alfalfa on Lance?" Oh God he shouldn't have said that. He started to back up without even thinking because he flashed back to the anger and the sudden venom from the hand that had rescued him.

"I know, it was stupid and reckless and if I can't take it seriously I should just go back to the city but it was an accident, I swear." There wasn't anything else to say. He felt like he needed to say more, to apologize, to beg her not to fire him. She was the daughter of the owner! God he was so stupid.

"No way!" But she… laughed? "Lance has been telling everyone for weeks that the bull in the back pasture put those bruises on his legs! Wouldn't let it go! Damn near crowned himself a hero for even trying to go out there. But a bale of alfalfa?! He's never going to live that down!" She was laughing, still, with a huge smile but Stiles didn't understand.

"But.. I was reckless? I could have seriously hurt him?" She shrugged.

"You didn't, though. Accidents happen and you're new." She handed him three more containers, now measured and labeled and ready for rounds, with a small smile. "Don't be too hard on yourself. From the spiel you're giving, I'm guessing Derek is the one who got to you after. He's a bit of a hardass when it comes to the rules. A couple years ago an intern tied a sailing knot in a leadrope instead of a quick release and the horse reared and panicked." Her smile, remarkably, was gone. Stiles hadn't thought that was possible from the short time that he'd known her but it was.

"Was everyone okay?" Another shrug, less enthusiastic and more reluctant.

"It broke his leg in three places and bruised it's spine. Never competed again, even though he was one of our best." She paused. "The horse, not Derek. But know that it's not you. Most of the permanent hands have more… colorful backgrounds that makes them seem a bit cold or standoffish to new people, especially summer interns." She handed him the last of the grain dishes before tossing her hair free of hay again and giving him her usual smile.

"But I like you, so they will too eventually. Try not to worry." Stiles smiled and thanked her, surprisingly wiping moisture from his eyes. It was allergies, right? But he'd never been allergic to anything and he knew that. Liz was the first non-intern to be nice to him, let alone say she liked him or try to make him feel better.

"I'd better be getting back." Liz smiled and tossed him a spool of hotwire.

"Be a dear and take this with you to the back barn on your way?" But it wasn't really a question or a request because she darted away before he could say no. He didn't mind, though. She was sweet, she made him smile, and it was on his way. So he tossed it over his shoulder and started off towards the back barn.

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Thanks for reading! As always, please review, follow, favorite, and share!


	2. Chapter 2

AN I don't own Teen Wolf or any of its characters!

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The next time Stiles saw any of the hands, it was by accident. He'd been going out of his way to avoid them because, though he liked Liz, he didn't want to risk it with the others. Especially not Derek or Lance. But Wes had basically said he was fired if he didn't get the buckets of empty fly spray bottles up to the main house before morning. He wobbled up to the house, buckets clanking, but went still when he heard voices. They were gathered together around a firepit thirty feet or so from the main house, sitting in little folding chairs with bottles of something in their hands. Realistically, he knew he should make a run for it. Or, at the very least, leave the buckets at the front instead of at the back of the house. But he couldn't help overhearing and watching a bit.

There were six of them in total, Liz included, but they were all smiling and laughing together. They teased Lance relentlessly about the alfalfa bale bruises, asking if he was too scared to do the morning feed rounds or if he needed someone to hold his hand. Lance's face worked up a familiar shade of red. Stiles stiffened, fighting back that instinct to run or throw up or anything but stand there and wait for death, but he couldn't move. Thankfully, Lance didn't see him. Instead, he blew up at the group, telling them to go fuck themselves, but they just laughed instead of seeming scared. Lance stormed off into the house with a few more threats. But the circle of hands just rolled their eyes and brushed him off like it was an everyday kind of thing.

Liz was there, her familiar laugh floating in the air as one of the others told a joke. As much as Stiles wanted to wave to her or say hi somehow, he didn't dare risk meeting any of the others just to find out they were Lance's best friend or something. Against his better judgement, his eyes drifted to Derek. Mean, bitter, lashing out at him Derek was there laughing with them, teasing Lance and tossing back a drink like nothing was wrong. He even let Liz come up behind him and playfully wrap her arms around his shoulders. Without a single cuss word. Liz, it seemed, had it out for him, though. Because she saw him on the edges of the firelight and called him over with a wide, tipsy smile.

"Aye Stiles! Come join us!" Oh no. On a scale of one to ten, this was definitely not good.

"It's okay, really. I have a lot to do-"

"Nonsense!" Liz laughed, motioning him towards the group again. "We'll get someone else to do it. Come sit!" He didn't really have a choice. She sat him down in the chair between her and Derek, taking Lance's spot, but no matter how many wide eyed distress signals he tried to give her, she just smiled. Selective hearing, he supposed. But, slowly, the group began to warm up to him. Maybe because he'd been brought in by Liz and wasn't a complete outsider or maybe because they were all a drink or two in and life had taken on a pleasant haze that made him seem not as bad. But they did.

He learned their names and matched them quickly to their faces. Liz, he knew. And Derek. Lance was inside pouting, which left three others. A girl, and two guys. The girl, he figured, must have been Mira-the girl that Liz had mentioned earlier-but she introduced herself as Amira and Stiles quickly noted that Mira was not a nickname he had earned the right to call her yet. She was cute, though, in a subtle kind of way. Her features were a tad rabbit like but the black hair slicked back into a thin ponytail and the flush to her cheeks only accentuated her rabbit-ness. But she smiled at him warmly and he decided that she couldn't be that bad. She handed him a hard lemonade.

After that came Jack, whose real name was William, but who swore he would gut anyone who called him that. He was… like a graham cracker. His dirty blonde hair, his honey colored skin, and his personality too. He was quieter than the others-though not as quiet as Derek-and when he did speak it was generally nice things but everything had a soft, subtle undertone of passivity. And, to be honest, he was kind of bland. Like a graham cracker. Which just left Boe. Boe was Puerto Rican, he said, and proud of it. His name was actually something Puerto Rican-though he wouldn't tell anyone what it was-but he'd been given the nickname Boe when he moved to the states and he was so used to it that he just went by it now. Boe was the loudest of the bunch. Graham Cracker Jack didn't say much and wasn't very opinionated, leaving the group to fill his silence, and Derek was silent-like a panther hiding out, waiting to kill its prey. Stiles felt remarkably like the prey… Amira talked and laughed with the group more than the other two, for sure, but Liz and Boe easily talked-and argued-loudly over anyone else. Liz had the energy and the positivity while Boe had the passion and the persistence. Together they were-

"They can be a bit much, I know." Stiles jumped, but looked up in surprise to see Amira and Derek both staring at him, blind to the spectacle that Liz and Boe were creating with the current argument. "You're Stiles, right?" He nodded, looking to Amira. It was truthfully to avoid making eye contact with Derek, but he prayed that it wasn't obvious because, after all, Amira _was_ the one speaking to him.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Stiles. I, for one, like you and I hope we get to know you more over the summer. Which is not something I say about most interns." That made him smile, though he was still nervous. She seemed nice, now, and Stiles was slowly relaxing into the situation.

"I hope so too. I'm pretty sure Lance will do anything to keep that from happening, though, so I wouldn't count on it." Amira just shrugged it off though, chuckling under her breath.

"Don't worry about Lance. He's a little wuss and if he can't get over himself then he can die mad about it. Besides, we operate on a majority vote here. It would take a lot more than Lance to keep you out." Stiles glanced at Derek before he could stop himself. Quickly, he looked away, because Derek clearly didn't like him and he didn't need a reminder of that. But Derek raised his eyebrow at him.

"What? You think I'd vote no?" Stiles shrugged. He was dead. He was so dead. Derek was going to kill him like the prey he was because he'd opened his big fat mouth and couldn't just keep it to his damn self.

"I mean…" But Amira playfully punched Derek in the shoulder.

"Oh stop it, Der! You're scaring him already! Of course he thinks you hate him, you yelled at him and all you've done is glare tonight. At least _try_ to be nice." Derek glared at her, then, but she didn't seem fazed. "Or are you going to be pouty, like Lance?" That seemed to lighten the mood, a little, and Amira smirked. Derek rolled his eyes at her, but he turned to Stiles.

"It's nice to meet you. Hope you last." Amira nudged him again but laughed it off with a roll of her eyes. She grabbed another bottle. Derek opened it for her, which seemed to be a truce between them, but Amira just smiled.

"I'd give that half credit, at best, but at least you tried. Stiles, don't worry about him. You won't _just_ last, you'll flourish and you'll love it here, I promise, Derek is just a sourpuss. He _means_ that he hopes to see you around and that you become a part of our little posse. Right, Der?" Derek grunted and excused himself for more beer.

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it, Amira." She smiled but shrugged.

"Eh, he'll come around but I don't blame you for being hesitant. And please, call me Mira. Any friend of Liz is a friend of all of us, even Derek. Believe it or not, this is what he's like when he actually _likes_ a person. He'd be much worse if he didn't like you." Worse? This was how Derek treated people that he liked?

"I'm starting to see why he doesn't have many friends." She laughed and scooted over to take Derek's seat, forming a protective bubble with Liz on either side of him.

"You'd be surprised."

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Thanks for reading! As always, please review, favorite, follow, and share! Updates will be pretty fast.


	3. Chapter 3

AN I don't own Teen Wolf or any of its characters!

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It was amazing how one person could completely change a dynamic between two people. Stiles made sure he was never alone with Derek, because he didn't have a death wish, but with just the addition of Liz or Mira he and Derek went from dangerously close to murder to something like friends? Quickly, he took to teasing Derek whenever Liz or Mira were around-even Jack or Boe, sometimes. It started relatively innocent. Derek dropped a bucket or a plate and Liz called him a clutz. Stiles joined in, just testing the waters, and corrected Liz to _Sir Clutz_. At least, then, if Derek got mad at him Liz would protect him, right? But Derek didn't lash out or even glare, he just rolled his eyes with a little snort.

"Look what you started, Liz." And everything continued like usual. The world didn't end, so Stiles decided to push the boundaries a little more. Instead of just tagging onto jokes, he made his own, and Derek was always the source but never seemed to mind. But, unfortunately, Derek didn't mess up that often. Which meant Stiles had very little material to work off of if he kept up his current pattern of teasing. So, when Derek grunted at him the next time instead of using his words, Stiles took the opportunity.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm new to this grunt language. Does that mean _take me I'm yours_?" Mira choked out a laugh but Derek stared at him in shock. Suddenly, Derek blinked. His face flushed just the slightest shade of pink but Stiles wasn't stupid enough to think it was embarrassment but it was interesting. Derek shrugged it off with a huff. The next time Derek grunted at him, Stiles was positive it meant _I'm madly in love with you_. That time, Derek didn't hesitate. He fired right back, almost instantly, with _You wish, lover boy_. Stiles honestly took more than a second to recover from the jolt of hearing anyone, let alone Derek, call him lover boy but, by the time he did, Derek had smirked and left. It was all a joke, meant to play on their dislike of each other. That was all.

Soon, when Derek glared at him, all it took was one whisper of _Hell hath no fury_ to shut him up. Hell hath no fury like a lover's scorn, he'd said. Mira had tried to correct him to a woman scorned but Stiles shook his head and assured her that he knew the quote, he just didn't think it was exclusive. Stiles couldn't help it, he smirked every time Derek glared now because the only words that came to mind were 'starcrossed lover boy'. It was all harmless, just fun and games. Until Stiles ran into Derek in the storage shed, without Mira or Liz. Or anyone.

"What, no jokes?" Derek actually sounded surprised, if not a little disappointed.

"I… I mean it's just us." Derek looked at him quizzically for a minute. He set down the box he was carrying.

"You don't want to tease me without one of them here? Why? For the audience?" Stiles snorted. His humor didn't need an audience, he entertained himself.

"No, for the protection." Oh fuck. He didn't realize what he said until it was too late. But, at that, Derek's joking tone dropped and his face darkened.

"Protection?" Stiles started to go back on it, to change what he said, but Derek didn't let him even get a word out. "No, you meant what you said. You're scared to tease me without one of them here. Why?" Stiles couldn't open his mouth. He couldn't breathe. Derek hadn't raised his voice at him but the pure, utterly complete panic in his chest didn't care.

"Why, Stiles? What did you think I would do? Yell?" What did Stiles think he would do?

"It wouldn't be the first time." Derek stopped, frozen. "I mean honestly you're way bigger than me and stronger and you could do a lot of things if you got mad and there's nothing I could do about it but-" His voice failed him, his hands shaking as he tried to go for the door handle or run but he couldn't. He couldn't move. He was waiting, waiting for Derek to ignite with rage. To yell, to raise his voice, to shove him or hit him, or _something_. But Derek just stood there. He stared at Stiles like he'd never seen him before.

"You're afraid of me? You think that I would hurt you?" Stiles didn't have to dignify that with a response. Derek already knew the answer. At that, Derek, clearly distraught, tossed the reins he was oiling into one of the boxes somewhere and rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him with a thud. Stiles jumped at the sound, even though he was expecting it. Oh no… he really screwed up. How could he have been so stupid!? What was it about Derek that made him speak his mind without thinking about any of the consequences? He never would have said any of that to literally anyone else! God! What the hell was wrong with him!?

He was panicking. He went to Mira, rather than Liz, because she was better at keeping things low key. After about three minutes of staring at her, watching her organize tack, she finally asked if anything was on his mind. He chewed his lower lip. When his lip began to bleed, he stopped and asked if she'd seen Derek or noticed anything off with him lately. She shook her head but, of course, she asked why. He gave her the brief explanation but she didn't chastise him or yell, even though he'd screwed up. Her face sombered and she nodded.

"I'll look out for him. Thank you for telling me, Stiles, and don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise. Derek just has his own… demons." Stiles nodded. Right. Derek had his own issues. But Stiles couldn't help feeling like it was his fault, regardless. And it was his fault. Mira was going to make sure Derek was okay, which was good, and she would probably mitigate whatever damage she could. But Stiles had fucked up. Big time.

Derek avoided him for over a week. He didn't see him anywhere, which was impressive because the ranch wasn't really that large of an area assuming that Derek wasn't out grazing in a pasture somewhere. Honestly, Stiles wasn't complaining. Even though it just made his guilt even stronger, he was relieved that he didn't have to face Derek or try to make conversation with him. It was weird, though. To have his entire day revolve around the man and then to act like he didn't exist. He didn't realize just how used to Derek he'd become.

But it didn't matter. Because, finally, he ran into him in the hayloft during his lunch break. Derek was sitting, alone on one of the bales, and Stiles stopped just a few feet from the ladder, alone. They were alone. Immediately, Derek stood and started towards the ladder.

"I should go-" But he stopped, realizing that Stiles stood between him and the only way back down into the barn. Stiles hesitated.

"Wait, why are you avoiding me?" Derek sighed, refusing to sit back down or relax. But he set his plate down, half full of food still, and took a deep, forced breath.

"I don't want you to be afraid." There was something kind of ridiculous about that. Derek didn't want him to be afraid?

"And you thought creeping around in the shadows like a fucking panther hunting me down was the less threatening option?" Derek gaped, speechless and taken aback.

"I.. I'm sorry I didn't-"

"I'm teasing, Derek." The word teasing made Derek stop. Teasing. And then, slowly, smile.

"Better a panther in the shadows than the bull in a china shop that you are." Stiles reeled and blinked. Derek was teasing him back. He smiled, a real smile without nearly as much anxiety or guilt riding on his shoulders, and almost laughed. Derek was teasing him back.

"Touche. See you around, Derek." Derek nodded to him, still smiling a bit, and Stiles descended back to find Mira or Liz to eat with but he was in a much better mood. Derek had teased him back! Somehow, it felt like everything was a little bit better. Surely that meant that Derek wasn't mad at him anymore?

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Thanks for reading! Updates will be fast, I promise. As always, please favorite, follow, review, and share!


	4. Chapter 4

AN I don't own Teen Wolf or any of its characters.

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As it turned out, the permanent hands went on an end of the season trail ride retreat up into the mountains as their vacation time. It was an exclusive tradition but Liz cornered him and invited him? On the trail ride? With the permanent hands? He was honestly to surprised to even respond. He'd been kind of disappointed to hear they were all leaving because they'd become his only friends and the other interns hated him even more for it, but go with them?

"Oh, I don't even have a horse to ride…" But Liz quite literally waved her hand at him and laughed.

"Don't be silly, Stiles. You can ride any of the horses you want, I own them! Or, at least, my mom does. But still! Plus she really likes you so she would definitely let you." The hopeful expression on Liz's face was like a small child begging for a toy. She nudged him, prodded him, laughing the entire time. But he was hesitant.

"Are you sure the others would want me there? It seems like kind of your guys' tradition…" He had no doubt that Lance would do everything in his power to make his life miserable for just daring to show up. The others would probably be fine with it, even Derek. They'd been good, lately. But Lance would kill him.

"Stiles, I'm inviting you. Mira and the boys love you!" His face clearly said he knew that, and that wasn't the issue, though. "Lance can get over himself and Derek… well Derek is kind of always grumpy but he's slightly less grumpy than usual which means he likes you! I promise. Please come? It'll be so much more fun with you there, especially if it makes Lance tone his attitude down." She made it sound like a good time, like Lance would be manageable, but Stiles knew he would catch him alone at least once.

"I'll… think about it." With a squeal, she hugged him and hurried off to the main house to do whatever she was going to do originally.

Stiles underestimated Liz. She ganged up him with Mira and Boe, each of them urging him to come along and telling him how much fun it would be. Finally, he broke and agreed. Boe and Graham Cracker Jack both clapped him on the back with a smile, Mira gave him a side hug, and Liz beamed at him. No one decided to tell him when the trail ride actually was, until the day before.

Liz put him on a horse the color of dirt who, unsurprisingly, was named Dusty. Simply put, Stiles was unimpressed. Dusty was lazy and slow, which Liz promised was good because nothing fazed him, but Stiles found it irritating. Stupid Dusty. He didn't really fit the whole black stallion riding off into the sunset fantasy. When he brushed him down at lunch the first day, he half hoped that he would be a beautiful black steed underneath the dirt, but he wasn't. Instead, he was a slightly _less_ unappealing shade of dirt. But Stiles loved the ride nevertheless. Even if Dusty was stupid and dirt colored and lazy.

They stopped for the night about halfway up Ridgeback Mountain and made camp, sleeping under the stairs in lieu of tents because it wasn't raining. It was actually pretty fun, Stiles admitted. There was something so rural about laying down and only seeing the black sky, filled with stars. The others didn't seem as affected by it, but it was also a tradition for them and undoubtedly not their first time, so Stiles shrugged it off. They stayed up telling ghost stories. Stiles was dead tired but it was so ridiculously hilarious that he couldn't miss out. All the stories were incredibly stupid and blatantly untrue. But it was entertaining.

For the majority of the ride, Lance pretended that Stiles wasn't there. Or, he dumped the shitty jobs on him-like fetching water or lugging rocks around for a firepit-but Stiles tried not to let it bother him too much. And it didn't bother him that much, truly. He was in the middle of the woods, getting paid to be there, and riding through the mountains with people he mostly considered friends. It was, frankly, awesome. Or, at least, he didn't mind until they passed a rattlesnake on the trail and made camp.

Stiles was terrified of snakes. He made the mistake of confessing that to Liz while Lance was in earshot, though, and he swore at himself internally. Sure enough, when they made camp, Lance told him to go gather firewood. With snakes around.

"Unless you're a coward?" Fuck Lance. "Or a useless temp?" Stiles really didn't want to go look for wood and turn over rocks after just seeing the first rattlesnake of his life. He didn't want to go anywhere, or even get off of Dusty. But Lance wasn't going to stop until he did.

"Lay off, Lance." The voice startled him, but before he could do anything Derek was beside him, hopping down off his horse. Lance got that familiar twinge in his face that said he was about to argue, and Stiles braced, reaching for the reins as if that would help him escape. But Derek didn't let it get that far.

"If you're so brave then you go get the wood. Better than making the rookie do it. Unless you're scared?" Lance huffed and stomped off. Derek rolled his eyes and offered Stiles a hand down from Dusty. Surprised, Stiles took it. That was… nice of him? But then Derek tied Dusty and his horse to the nearest hitching post, and offered to help him gather firewood. Stiles was amazed! And slightly concerned… But he accepted as quickly as he could manage to recover.

"I mean, yeah. Thank you. Why are you… being _nice_ to me?" Derek gave him a sideways glance. It was a little irritated but mostly seemed amused?

"Just because Lance is a dick doesn't mean I have to be. I was hesitant at first but, like the others, you've grown on me." Stiles gaped. "Like a tumor, maybe, but you've grown." There, that was more normal. Derek teasing him, a little annoying but with a little affection too. Stiles smiled, letting himself breathe. This was good, this was normal.

"You liiiiiiike me." He couldn't help letting his tongue dart out over his lips when Derek's face grew faintly pink at the suggestion. But Derek was smiling, he wasn't angry. Derek just rolled his eyes and threw a chunk of dry wood at him.

"Just get the wood, rookie."

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Thanks for reading! Sorry this one is shorter, but it felt like a more natural place to end it. Please favorite, follow, and review!


	5. Chapter 5

AN I don't own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. Short but sweet, hopefully!

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Of course they couldn't have made it more than two nights without the inevitable: truth or dare. It wouldn't have been a campfire if someone hadn't suggested it. And then enforced it. Truth be told-ha! Stiles amused himself-there weren't that many dares because no one really wanted to get up and actually do anything, which was kind of pathetic. The game was kind of pathetic, actually. Coming from Stiles, who had played truth or dare with Lydia and Jackson, pathetic was an understatement. Truth after truth after truth. Most of them were pretty similar, aside from one or two he didn't fully understand. Apparently, Mira would fuck Eli, whoever that was. Also, apparently, Boe would rather spend a night alone with Sal than eat Molly's meat pie, which also meant nothing to Stiles. Who made meat pie?

But, most of the truths were along the lines of 'who in this circle would you most like to kiss, fuck, share a bed with, live with, and so on. Until Lance perked up and got this glint in his eyes. He reached back into his pack and pulled out a bottle of vodka, grinning at the group.

"Let's spice things up, shall we? A lightning round. Each person can either do their dare, or take a shot. I'll start. Stiles, dare or shot?" Stiles really didn't want to get wasted. Not with this group, and especially not in the middle of the mountains at night. He was reckless, but he wasn't stupid.

"Dare." Also, he didn't want to look like a coward. Lance's smirk spread into a grin. Stiles could tell he was going to regret this, and judging by the malice in Lance's face, he was going to regret it sooner rather than later.

"I dare you kiss Derek. On the lips. With tongue." The entire group went dead silent, staring at him. Stiles mind blanked. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck _fuck!_ Why did Lance have to be such a dickhead?! Better yet, why did Stiles have to always walk face first into his traps?

"Lance, that's low," Mira finally muttered, breaking the silence. "Even for you." Liz nodded in agreement, giving Lance a disgusted look. But each of them kept glancing at Stiles, because they knew that Lance wasn't the real subject of this even if he was a dick.

"With tongue?" Liz grimaced. "Ew! Besides, you can't force anything on Derek if he says no because-"

"It's okay." All eyes whipped onto Derek, shocked or even irritated. Stiles wanted to punch him. Liz had found him a way out, bless her heart, and Derek had just gone and fucking ruined it! Derek just shrugged.

"It's a dare. It's fine." Suddenly, Stiles mouth was very dry. He swallowed hard, staring at the group one by one, wondering if they were actually going to make him do this. And _watch_. But, while he got sympathetic looks, he didn't get any help and it became increasingly clear that that was exactly what they planned to do. With Derek's consent, most of the argument had been lost.

"Come on, though. With tongue?" Stiles tried, glancing at Liz. As he'd hoped, she gagged and made a face.

"He's right. That's disgusting, Lance." Lance rolled his eyes but, with a disgusted Liz, Stiles managed to get it down to a kiss with no tongue at least. When Stiles hesitated, feeling his heartbeat in his hands, Lance offered him the shot again.

"Don't feel bad, coward. We all have our weaknesses." That was the breaking point, though. Stiles turned his back on Lance, his face hot, and marched over to Derek. With no warning, fueled by anger, he placed a hand under Derek's chin and lifted his face up to plant a kiss on his mouth. Reeling, Stiles stumbled back after a second. What the fuck. Had he really just done that?! Derek just chewed his lower lip a bit, getting it back in place, and turned back to the fire without even the tiniest of a reaction. Stiles felt like he was trying to walk across a frozen lake, slipping and sliding and not understanding why the ground wasn't being normal.

"Liz, dare or shot?" His mouth moved without his permission, following the rules he wasn't aware he'd been breaking. It was his turn. They were all staring at him, particularly Lance. He wanted to get Lance back but it was too sudden, too soon, for it to be well thought out so when Liz didn't take the shot, Stiles dared her to lick between her toes. It wasn't that good, it was actually quite stupid, but it was an old dare he remembered from middle school. Liz did it, cringing, and started to take her turn. With the attention off of him, Stiles finally took a breath.

His mind was just spinning, like a hamster on a wheel repeating itself over and over and never getting anywhere. The feeling of Derek's stubble against his palm. How surprisingly warm his skin was to the touch. The way his lips didn't just sit there but jumped to respond, to meet his and meld with them as quickly as possible. Eager. The intensity of his eyes when Stiles pulled away. Like coals simmering in a fire, they looked harmless until you were just a few mere inches from them and felt their heat. Stiles' head was swirling endlessly. He was barely even listening to the rest of the lightning round. His stomach churned and he was so glad he hadn't taken the shot because he definitely would have thrown it up by now but he couldn't think about that. No, he couldn't think about throwing up. Because then he actually would.

By the time Stiles recovered enough to come back to the group, only reliving the kiss every other second instead of constantly, he took stock. No one seemed any worse for the wear. Lance was clearly displeased by the results of his little dare, which meant more would be coming, but Stiles didn't care. Derek didn't seem uncomfortable or even fazed. Stiles did his best to look the same, which only pissed Lance off even more. What did he care, though? He'd just kissed _Derek_ of all people!

But they went to bed soon after that and Stiles managed to forget it about Lance as he huddled in his sleeping bag near the fire. Instead, he was preoccupied with Derek. It was infatuation, he knew, and it was misguided at best but he was quickly falling in love with the feeling of Derek's lips against his. Derek was an authority figure, and an attractive one, which explained the crush. It didn't make it any easier, though. He swore at himself. Why couldn't he just like someone normal, for once? Preferably someone who also liked him back?

* * *

When Stiles woke up, it was with a scream. Because there was a fucking rattlesnake on his chest!? He thrashed in his sleeping bag, his chest seizing, watching it bounce on the material as he screamed bloody murder for a solid ten seconds. Until he realized it wasn't moving. Lance practically guffawed, laughing so hard tears came out his eyes.

"Oh my-! You're such a scaredy city slicker!" Stiles wanted to give him another reason to have tears on his face. Boe and the girls were all chuckling, subtly and under their breaths. As Stiles finally caught his breath and centered himself again, he realized he couldn't really blame them because his reaction was no doubt ridiculous to watch. Graham Cracker Jack, surprisingly, had managed to sleep through the screaming. Which was actually, genuinely concerning... But when Stiles turned to Derek, expecting to see his face red with laughter by now, he was sorely mistaken.

The man's expression darkened as he glared at Lance. Derek picked up the molten snake skin with two fingers and chucked it into the rocks nearby, hissing a couple choice insults in Lance's direction. Sensing the hostility, the others quickly scattered. For some reason, Derek offered Stiles a hand up? One that, once he realized what was happening, Stiles gratefully took. But still, it was weird… Lance seemed displeased by that too.

"That's enough, Lance"

"Oh come on it's just a joke! It's all in good spirit, right Sti?" But Stiles stiffened. A week ago or even an hour ago he would have rushed to agree, just to diffuse the conflict. With Derek behind him, though, he felt a new surge of strength. He didn't answer, let alone agree, which only seemed to anger Lance even further. The dick stormed off to do whatever he was going to do and Derek sighed, moving back to the saddles without another word. Honestly, what the hell was even happening with this trail ride anymore?

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Thanks for reading! As always, please favorite, follow, review, and share!


	6. Chapter 6

AN I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters! Also, super sorry I know I promised fast updates but then I went on a week long backpacking trip with no plumbing so definitely no wifi or laptop... Anyways, I'm sorry and I'll be updating a lot to make up for it!

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The rest of the group all knew each other pretty well, Stiles realized. They either didn't ask anything, making Stiles assume they already knew, or their questions were so specific and absurd that there was no way they didn't have years worth of stories together. Like when Boe made Liz tell Stiles about 'the time with the pickle slices, the hair ties, and the cinderblock' but wouldn't say why. Regardless, they were all incredibly interested in getting to know Stiles. Either because he was new or because they didn't have enough embarrassing stories to use on him as blackmail yet. They spent hours talking around the fire about his life. Asking question after question, they entire group lapped up every syllable he could possibly tell them about himself-even Lance, which was both surprising and worrying. Was he just saving up for his next prank?

But Stiles didn't like sharing as much as he liked listening, learning about them and their lives. Liz was the only one who talked about her life before becoming a hand at the ranch, because she'd lived there and grown up with the horses and her mom, but the others didn't even touch on it. It was like their lives only began once they got hired.

There were a lot of moments that Stiles wished he could engrave in his mind for eternity, but waking up with a jolt of panic and the feeling of someone's hand over his mouth was not one of them. His mind immediately went to Lance and he started to scream.

"Shh! Be quiet or you'll scare them!" As his eye adjusted to the darkness, Stiles realized with relief it was Derek kneeling over the fuck? Why was Derek waking him up in the middle of the night? And, more importantly, why was he doing so by clamping his hand over Stiles' mouth?! Silently, Derek motioned for Stiles to follow him. Every instinct said not to do it, that this was how the idiot college student died first in a horror movie, but he did. Because, despite his best attempts not to, he did trust Derek.

Again, Derek held a finger over his lips in a sign to be quiet. Stiles nodded that he understood. Derek led him down what looked like an animal path in the brush towards a patch of flattened grass, practically tip-toeing. The entire time Stiles was going over the situation and how likely he was to die. Derek wouldn't kill him… Right?

But before Stiles could back out, Derek motioned towards the grass. There, lying next to a fallen log, were two tiny identical baby deer. Their fur covered in spots, their eyes closed with sleep. As they watched, one opened its eyes to look at him, curiously but not fearfully, and then blinked and went back to sleep. Apparently they weren't that much of a threat. Derek motioned him back, away from the deer but further away from the group too.

"Baby mule deer," Derek said softly. "I figured you'd never seen them before in the wild." Stiles still couldn't really believe he just saw baby deer.

"They're so freaking adorable..." Derek smiled a bit, it reaching his eyes more than his mouth, but nodded. "Wait, you aren't going to wake the others and show them?" Beside him, Derek rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"They've seen it before or they're too loud and I figured you would be the only one to appreciate it. Was I right?" Stiles stared down the trail back towards where the bab deer were, afraid to speak too loudly or scare them. He felt like a little kid surrounded by puppies. Overcome with the desire to pet them and hug them and put them in his lap, he took another step away and tried to focus on Derek.

"You were right." Suddenly, with the deer out of sight and the rest of the group silently far away enough to not overhear, Stiles remembered that he hadn't gotten a chance to speak to Derek alone since the game of truth or dare. He'd meant to apologize that night, and then every night after. But they'd always been surrounded by the others, especially Lance, and he hadn't had a chance to even ask about the weather let alone about that dare. But now they were alone.

"Hey, about that dare… I'm sorry." Derek shrugged and shook his head. He honestly seemed pretty nonchalant about it, leaning back against a tree with his arms crossed but not defensive. Stiles couldn't help thinking back to how quickly Derek's lips had responded. Almost without thinking, so instinctively he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or if Derek had even meant to do it. But the response had been there.

"Don't worry about it. It was Lance's dare, not yours." Derek shrugged again. "Besides, it's okay, everyone kisses like that their first time." Stiles gaped at him.

"Wait, what? What do you mean _like that_?!" Derek smirked. Something glinted mischievously in his eyes but Stiles was too taken aback to notice it, still reeling. What the hell?! Derek's smirk only grew.

"What, you're trying to tell me that wasn't your first time kissing someone?" Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot. Who the hell did Derek think he was!? A stupid peck in truth or dare wasn't a kiss, not a real one at least!

"I'm a great kisser you asshole! Just because-"

"Then prove it." Stiles reeled back so hard at that he felt like he'd run into a brick wall.

"Wha… What?" But Derek just smirked. He seemed to enjoy toying with Stiles, making his emotions jerk up and down like a yo-yo.

"You heard me. Prove it." Derek shrugged at Stiles' silence, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say! Who the hell was this guy, honestly!? But Stiles was still shaking and his cheeks were flushed and his mind was switching between confusion and indignation and shock so quickly that he didn't have time to make a decision. His feet stepped forward. His hands reached out and wrapped around Derek's neck, pulling him in and tangling in his hair. He heard Derek's breath catch, but it didn't register until it was too late.

Stiles crashed their lips together like he'd memorized the distance years ago and almost grinned at how quickly Derek responded, molding into the kiss and returning it. He felt Derek's hands on his hips. And then on the small of his back, pulling their bodies flush against each other, but his brain hadn't even caught up to the conversation beforehand let alone this. He just reeled, soaking in every moment of the sensation like smooth whiskey. Stiles had never actually had whiskey but he imagined that it was very similar to what Derek tasted like. Slightly sweet, rich, and full with a smokey or a maple finish. Before Stiles even realized, they broke away.

It hit him with a bit of a sting, the sudden emptiness and coldness in his mouth, but he hadn't even caught his breath. Their tongues had been battling for dominance? He didn't remember Derek's tongue slipping between his lips but suddenly the absence of it weighed on him, making him ache for it to come back. Breathing hard, they just existed together. Derek didn't remove his hands and Stiles didn't pull back-he felt like he might die if there was any more space between them. Instead, Derek pressed his forehead gently against Stiles'. He felt Derek take a few deep breaths, relishing the feeling of his breath against his skin, before he realized Derek was smiling.

"You were right. You are a good kisser." Stiles should have been mad or indignant or something but he just laughed, letting his head drop against Derek's chest and feeling it shake with laughter too.

"I believe I said great, actually." They laughed, pressed as close together as physics would allow, just enjoying the moment. Stiles couldn't believe that just happened. His mind reeled and his hands shook but his chest was light and airy with laughter and he couldn't stop smiling. Nothing had ever felt half as natural as Derek's heartbeat against his chest.

* * *

They didn't tell anyone what happened. At least, Stiles hadn't told anyone-he hoped that Derek hadn't either. When he woke up, he was sure that he had dreamed it because if anything was going to be a fantasy that was pretty damn close… By breakfast he was sure he'd imagined it. Until Derek winked at him behind Mira's back while scrubbing the pan clean. Stiles felt his stomach lurch. But it was in a good way, he decided, and he almost squealed and panicked all over again because holy fuck he and Derek had kissed!

There was another day or two of almost nothing. Stiles would have liked to say that he enjoyed the ride and the trail so much he forgot about Derek but it would have been a lie. Truthfully, he didn't remember much about those two days except thinking about Derek. It got to the point that Stiles was starting to think he really had dreamed it, even the wink. After two days, it was hard to think anything else. But they were all sleeping and Stiles had to pee so he forced his aching body to get up and head off towards the brush.

Twenty feet away, he stopped and peed. He couldn't have imagined the whole thing, could he? Maybe parts but not all of it. Right? But he shook his head at himself, because he knew now it had all been a dream that he'd just wanted so badly to be real he'd convinced himself it was. With a huff of annoyance, he trekked back towards camp. When he got within sight of their little group, he only counted five bodies in sleeping bags on the ground. He counted on his fingers, just to be sure. Liz, Boe, Mira, Graham Cracker Jack, Derek, Lance, and him. Seven. There should have been six bodies, right? Confused, he tried to squint enough to figure out who was where and who was missing. Liz had been next to him, Mira next to her. Both of them were still there, asleep, and Boe was still snoring faintly from one of the other lumps but he couldn't remember where anyone else had been. He tried desperately to remember Lance's placement in the group. If Lance caught him alone in the middle of the night there was no telling what he would do. Stiles told himself he would scream if it was Lance trying to prank him so the others would protect him, especially Derek. Wait, where had Derek been?

Suddenly he felt hands on his hips-warm and calloused but confident. Stiles nearly screamed because he was sure Lance had finally snapped but he recognized the snicker in his ear. He sighed in relief. Realizing how close Derek actually was to him, his felt his heartrate began to quicken involuntarily to the point that he had to try to slow his breathing. Why was he suddenly so panicky? He breathed, trying not to focus on the fingers trailing playfully along the waist of his jeans.

"What's the matter, Stiles? You want me to take a step back?" Derek's tone was teasing and light, but the question was genuine. It was as if Derek was daring him to tell him to back off, to stop, but also double checking that he wasn't uncomfortable. It was cute, actually. And really, really attractive. Wait, no, that was just Derek who was really, really attractive.

"Actually I was thinking there was a little too much space." What the hell? Where had that come from? But it was too late to take it back and he wasn't sure that he wanted to anymore. He more felt than heard Derek laugh, his fingers pressing lightly into the flesh of Stiles' hips and pulling him back just ever so slightly. Back against Derek.

"Oh? And what do you plan to do about it?" Stiles honestly couldn't believe that this Derek was the same Derek he'd met two months ago in the barn because he was just so… different. This Derek was sure of himself. He was smirking under his breath and honestly he was damn near seductive. But Stiles wouldn't have changed a moment of it. This was what the emptiness in his gut so desperately ached for.

"I was planning on turning around." That was a good plan, right? It wasn't witty, really, but it would get their faces closer together again.

"But?" Derek's voice, low in his ear, forced a shiver down his spine that Stiles liked a little too much. Stiles liked Derek a little too much. But it was too late, the feeling of Derek's warm breath against the hollow of his throat was Stiles' new drug of choice. He didn't want to move, even to turn around. He just really wanted to keep Derek talking.

"But I don't know if you'll let me." Derek hummed, low in his throat against Stiles' shoulder, but smiled and released his hips, backing away and leaving Stiles surprisingly cold. Stiles really didn't like the sudden chill of Derek's absence. He shivered, but in a bad way that felt empty, not exciting.

"I see. Would you care to continue this conversation in a more private location?" Stiles glanced back at the sleeping muddle of people but Derek shook his head. "Wouldn't be the first time one of them faked sleep to eavesdrop." For once, he was glad that Derek knew them all so well. He nodded, feeling his stomach churn with giddy anxiety, and gestured for Derek to lead the way but Derek smiled, considered, and then offered his hand. His… hand? With how in control Derek had been it seemed weird for something so… mutual? But he liked it, he decided, and took it, being sure to shoot Derek with a questioning look. Derek didn't explain, though, or even flick on a flashlight to see the path he just led Stiles along in the darkness-seeming to understand exactly how sexy it was that he was so confidently taking the lead. God, everything he did was sexy!

By the time they reached the crest of a small ridge, Stiles was drunk on the sensation of Derek's pulse against his palm. Then, they stopped. It was so sudden and abrupt that Stiles found himself hesitating. He wasn't sure he was ready for Derek to let go of his hand, which he assumed Derek would now that they'd arrived, but Derek only let it slip about an inch before squeezing and intertwining their fingers. Stiles… loved it.

"Hey" Stiles mumbled stupidly, trying not to freak out at the current situation. Fucking _Derek_ was holding his hand! They were alone among the brush and rocks, holding hands! He had no doubt Derek would be annoyed by how stupid he was acting, but he couldn't bring himself to be anxious just yet. Not with Derek holding his hand. Derek just smiled, though.

"Hey." Right, that was the right response. How the hell was Derek keeping it together so easily!?

"So, what did you want to talk about?" It was stupid, Stiles knew that, but he didn't know what else to say or do and he wasn't just going to stand there and stare like a complete idiot so he settled for a half idiot. But Derek just smiled, same as before. It wasn't a full on, huge smile but it was there and it seemed to fit Derek's personality more than a grin would have. Stiles loved it. Stiles loved every single thing about Derek it seemed like, and he didn't think he minded it.

"Actually, I was hoping to do a little less talking." Oh… fuck that was hot. Still holding his hand, Derek pulled him into his arms rather than moving to meet him and it was so… _sexy_. So in control, so sure. The hand Derek was holding got pinned behind his back and Derek secured it-which he doubted was unintentional-by wrapping his other arm around Stiles' waist. Wait, what? It was complicated and hard to follow, especially in Stiles' current mental state, but all he knew for sure was that he liked it. That he liked being so close to Derek, being wrapped in his arms, feeling his warmth. He damn near loved it. Stiles, still reeling, brought the one hand he did have up to press flat against Derek's chest, feeling his heartbeat and watching it rise and fall with every breath Derek took.

"What are you doing?" Again, it was stupid because it was pretty clear what Derek was doing but Stiles couldn't stop himself for some godforsaken reason.

"That counts as talking." Derek answered, shaking his head disapprovingly. But before Stiles could argue that it was technically a question and not a statement which were obviously different, Derek swooped down and connected their lips. Again, Stiles was overwhelmed by just how electric and _alive_ Derek's lips were. Derek was not his first kiss but both Payton and Malia had never been anything like this. Where both (now ex) girlfriends had willingly kissed him back, Derek practically keened and jumped at the chance to meet his lips, to push back and explore Stiles' mouth. He was eager and enthusiastic and it made Stiles' knees weak because for the first time in his life he just felt so _wanted_. Not even sexually, necessarily, but Derek just seemed so alive and so happy to exist in that moment, sharing the feeling and the silence and the darkness with Stiles, that Stiles truly felt… wanted.

And god it was crazy how quickly that realization changed him. His mouth went from timid and relenting to a hot, frantic battle just to be closer, to feel more, in a matter of seconds. _God damn_ if he thought Derek was eager before... But he didn't have long to think because his skin was on fire and everywhere Derek touched, even just the back of his hand, made it feel like someone was lighting sparklers in his chest. Derek released his hand, letting Stiles tangle it in his hair and tug him closer. Feeling Derek arch into the touch was absolutely _delicious_. Stiles wasn't sure why he'd been released-though he didn't care-until he felt that hand go to the back of his neck.

In one, smooth motion, Derek lifted him off his feet. Before Stiles could even start to panic, Derek eased him back down onto the ground, holding him. Lying flat on his back, Stiles was suddenly very aware of Derek hooking a hand under each of his knees and pulling him closer so that Derek could settle over him, his hips between Stiles' legs. Derek didn't go so far as to grind their hips together but Stiles felt the sudden bulge in Derek's jeans and it nearly drove him wild just knowing that it was there.

Stiles thought far enough to consider trying to grind up against Derek's hips but Derek was on top of him, pressing their chests together and holding his hands against the dirt above his head and kissing him roughly before he could get that far. Stiles didn't even have to think to lean into the kiss and match the pace, even when he felt Derek's tongue slid between his lips and against his teeth. But, just as suddenly, Derek broke away. He didn't pull back or let go but Stiles didn't understand why until he felt Derek's wet, hot lips against his throat. God _damn_ Derek knew what he was doing! Stiles didn't think he would ever get tired of this.

Derek left sloppy kisses all over his collarbone and nipped where his shoulder met his neck but Stiles held it together until Derek sucked his pulse point. At that, Stiles lost control. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned, fighting Derek's grip just to be able to touch him or pull his hair or _something_ but Derek was stronger. Much stronger. Stiles bucked his hips wildly, just trying to get any kind of friction, but Derek stopped that too, pressing down against his hips with his own until they were weighed down. Still, Stiles writhed and panted under him as Derek kissed up and down his neck. But he always returned to his pulse point, quicker and quicker the more of a reaction it got from him, until he couldn't see straight. Stiles felt his stomach pitch the longer Derek did it and the unmistakable tightening in his gut but he couldn't stop long enough to breathe let alone speak until finally he managed to gasp out:

"Der- Derek st- Stop…" Slowing, Derek broke away from the bruised skin with a wet pop but didn't let go or release him. Instead, Derek just looked down at him. He stared into his eyes, as if he was drinking in the flush of Stiles' cheeks and the sweat on his brow with intentions a little short of innocent. Finally, Stiles caught his breath. How in the name of everything holy had Derek done this to him?! Normally, Stiles was hard to even arouse let alone get off and years of practice had been the only reason he was ever able to make himself come. He'd told both Payton and Malia that it was just how his body was and he'd honestly thought that… But now? Derek had nearly driven him over the edge by just kissing his neck.

"Something wrong, Angel?" Stiles stopped panting long enough to hear that.

"Angel?" Derek shrugged, the glint gone from his eyes but the smile lingering.

"Are you really in a position to complain about pet names right now?" Stiles rolled his eyes. Honestly, what did he expect? Derek had him pinned to the ground and so turned on-god Derek was pinning him to the ground he hadn't even comprehended that!

"Whatever, Pookie Bear." Derek's eyes narrowed-playfully not angrily-and before Stiles could yell out his lips were pressed roughly against that damn sensitive spot on Stiles' throat and his body arched and writhed out of his control as a moan took over any sound he made.

"Der-!" Another moan as Derek grazed his teeth over it. "Der sto- _nghhhh_ -stop!" Derek pulled away, admiring the breathless Stiles he apparently now thought he owned, but Stiles was too horny to be irritated.

"Yes, Angel?" Stiles felt like he was going to die if Derek kept doing this to him, without any change or chance to return the favor.

"God _please_! Please just let me touch you…" He tried to make his voice trail off all sexily but he had no idea if it worked because Derek's face didn't shift from his smug little smirk. But his pupils did seem to widen the longer he looked down into Stiles' eyes. And maybe, if he looked hard, he saw a little bit of want there?

"Hmm… I guess if you insist." Stiles was not above begging, especially if it meant he got to torture Derek the way Derek was currently torturing him but, thankfully, it didn't come to that. Derek released his hands. Without his knowledge, they flew to Derek's shoulders and his hair but before Derek could even be smug about how desperate Stiles clearly was, Stiles flipped them. He wasn't stronger than Derek. He wasn't even strong, really, but he was a sheriff's kid so he had been to more self-defense classes in his life than actual classes and he knew technique. Derek's shock was written all over his face and, for a second, Stiles was proud that he'd managed to surprise him. Surprise the man who, until now, had been the one in control of the situation and of him.

But, he didn't waste any time. Derek could have flipped and pinned him again in a second if he wasn't so taken aback. So Stiles slid his hands up under Derek's shirt and raked his nails across the skin, making Derek's breath come short. It wasn't enough, though, so Stiles ground his hips against Derek's, letting Derek feel how hard he was making him and trying to size up Derek at the same time. Derek's mouth fell open as he gasped, arching into it. For a split second, Stiles thought he might come from that sight alone. But Stiles subconsciously took the opening and crashed his mouth against Derek's, slipping his tongue in before Derek could even react. God Derek really did taste like whiskey… Like oak trees and hidden sweetness and rough, outward anger. Stiles was definitely, unashamedly drunk on him.

He felt Derek try to steady himself and regain a bit of his grip but he wasn't having any of that. He deepened the kiss, exploring Derek's mouth instead of vice versa for once, and ground into him again as he ran his hands up and down Derek's chest. Until… Derek stiffened. He knew he had found one of Derek's nipples when his thumb brushed against the spot again and Derek's breath caught. Quickly, Stiles found the other and began to rub and circle and lightly play with the sensitive nubs while grinding their hips together. Under him, Derek went _wild_. For a second, Stiles struggled to keep him still when Derek's body suddenly thrashed and bucked into him and Derek moaned into his mouth but he managed. Somehow, he managed. For what felt like seconds or maybe years, Stiles struggled to keep him down as he circled each nipple and ground against Derek with no rhythm or control just desperation until, suddenly, Derek broke away.

"St- Stop" he gasped, trying to speak when he was still out of breath. Stiles did, letting his hands still against Derek's chest as he sat up a bit to straddle Derek and look him in the eye. He was sure, then, that he was in love with the flare of lust in Derek's eyes. And the way they looked at him… Slipping over his body like Derek couldn't get enough.

"What's the matter, Der bear? You don't want-" But Stiles was cut off by Derek rolling them yet again. Before he could think to block, Derek caught his wrists again and held them, his chest still heaving.

"Stiles, you have _no_ idea what I want to do to you," he breathed, dropping his head down beside Stiles'. "But it's almost morning. The others will be up soon. We can't-hey!" He glared at Stiles, who froze guiltily with his hips still pushed up against Derek's. Really, could he blame him? Getting him so worked up and then just stopping, what did he think would happen?

"We can't let them come looking for us." Stiles groaned in protest but he knew, deep down, Derek was right. He hated that he was right. Slowly, like he had to force himself, Derek leaned back and pulled himself off but Stiles groaned at the sudden loss. It was hot out, but without Derek pressing against him he was cold. And sad. But he didn't get to obsess over it because Derek stood, offering him a hand, which Stiles took, and helped them both onto their feet. Suddenly, Derek laughed.

"We're covered in dirt." Stiles just smiled. There was something about Derek's laugh, even if it was short or reserved and more of a chuckle, that wouldn't let his face do anything else.

"We'll tell them I was just trying to bond with Dusty." Derek laughed. A real, full, belly laugh that made Stiles smile unconsciously. This was a new, raw Derek that Stiles was falling for way too quickly-though he wasn't sure he minded.

"Right, and for me?" Stiles shrugged, brushing off his pants and shaking out his shirt as much as possible.

"You could always say you got covered in dirt from making out with me in secret in the middle of the night." Derek lightly shoved him and rolled his eyes. "Hey," Stiles continued. "They'd probably think you were joking. It might actually work." But Derek shook his head and brushed himself off. He was right, the sun was coming up over the ridge. How long had they been out there? When had Stiles gotten up to go pee? He honestly couldn't remember. Everything felt a little blurry after what had just happened. He couldn't get over the memory of Derek's skin against his or his lips on his throat, even though Derek was still standing only a couple inches from him. It felt like they were miles apart.

Derek started back down the path and led him to within twenty feet or so of the camp and motioned to Stiles to go back. Right, individually. So no one would get suspicious. Stiles did, forcing himself not to look back or even run back to Derek no matter how much he wanted to. But he took the 14 steps to the group. Laying back down in his sleeping bag and feigning sleep, he buried a huge grin in his sleeping bag. That had just happened. Him and Derek had just actually, truly, happened.

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Thanks for reading! As always, please review, follow, favorite, and share! Again, updates coming soon to make up for the week I was gone!


	7. Chapter 7

AN I don't own Teen Wolf or any of its characters! Sorry for late updates.

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Stiles couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. His mind was buzzing and spinning trying to balance the addictive bliss of Derek's touch with the reality of his situation. He heard Boe get up and start moving around, then Mira. Even when he heard them softly whisper a welcome to Derek, he pretended to be asleep. Apparently it wasn't out of the ordinary for Derek to wander off on his own before the others were up? But it didn't matter. Stiles kept to his routine and made sure he was the last up and no one seemed to notice or care that anything was different. Lance made a comment about the dirt all over him, as expected, but he said he was trying to bond with Dusty and the rest of the group laughed. Lance couldn't have made any more of an issue out of it without seeming pushy.

It was their last day on the trail ride. They were scheduled to be home by that night, if not that afternoon. The summer hires didn't leave for another three weeks, meaning that it wasn't like going back meant everything ending forever, but he couldn't help being anxious. Stiles was kind of afraid that whatever was happening with Derek would end as soon as they got back to the ranch-back to reality. It was an irrational fear, he knew, but the more he thought about it the more upset he got. He didn't think he could live with never seeing Derek again, never feeling his skin against his own or looking into those deep eyes at night. His anxious brain obsessed and worried constantly. To the point that he was wound so tight he almost snapped at _Liz_ of all people!

But the ride was scheduled and there was no stopping so they saddled up and headed out as the sun was starting to come up, like they had every other morning. Stiles' stomach churned into knots the longer he thought about it. Losing Derek, even after just a few days, felt like the kind of earth-shattering tragedy he would never recover from.

They stopped for lunch in the shadow of a patch of trees and Derek kept sneaking glances at him, as if he could tell something was off. But Stiles was too anxious to play it off like everything was cool. Derek would definitely notice that something was wrong, but Stiles didn't have the energy to pretend when his head was still spinning so fast he thought he might pass out. But Derek did notice. So, when Derek said he heard a stream a few hundred feet to the right, it was no surprise that he asked Stiles to go with him. He made him carry the buckets, so it wouldn't draw attention or suspicion. They all made him do boring, menials tasks to some extent because he was the rookie and they just didn't want to, usually. None of the others looked twice when Derek walked off, leading him. But, as soon as they were out of sight and earshot around a rock formation, Derek took the buckets and set them on the ground before facing Stiles.

"Hey, what's up? You seem really on edge. Is everything okay?" Stiles shrugged, mumbling something about being fine under his breath, and moved to pick up the buckets again. But Derek stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Stiles froze. His stomach dropped and he knew-he just _knew_ -that Derek was going to get angry. He braced, but nothing happened.

Slowly, gently, Derek took his hands in his own and held them, stepping closer to look into Stiles' eyes.

"Hey, you're clearly upset about something. What's wrong? Did someone say something or do something wrong?" He shook his head but he couldn't get away from Derek's soulful look. No matter where he averted his eyes to, he felt the look pressuring him to say something, to explain who wronged him or why he was suddenly acting crazy.

"No, you're all fine. I mean, Lance is a dick but that's not new. I just… don't want to go back." Derek furrowed his brow at him. It would have been cute and kind of adorable if it had been in any other situation, because he looked like a confused puppy, but he was too nervous to admire.

"What do you mean? You can still ride whenever you want and you're always welcome with us, you know that, right?" Stiles shook his head though, hiding his face as best he could to avoid looking Derek in the eye. His cheeks flushed red hot beneath Derek's gaze. It felt so stupid, so juvenile, but he was honestly afraid of losing whatever it was they had.

"I mean I wish _we_ didn't have to go back." He gestured weakly between them. But Derek was still confused. Why couldn't he just get it!? Or at least stop making Stiles try to explain it when he already felt like an idiot for even thinking it?

"Why? Do you think something's going to change?" Stiles shrugged. His mind screamed _yes_ and his chest constricted at all the possibilities that ran through his mind-all of them featuring Derek leaving.

"I don't want to just be a trail fling." Derek's face instantly fell. It was like Stiles had slapped him or something, how quickly he winced and darkened his expression. But he pulled Stiles in, before he could say anything else, for a tight hug, kissing his forehead and running a hand over his hair to smooth it. The whole thing was surprisingly… comforting? Was Derek not mad or annoyed? Stiles wasn't sure he understood what was happening but for some reason Derek holding him like that was the one thing that eased his anxiety.

"Angel, no. You are nothing like a fling, I promise, and I need you to know that." His voice was dripping with honesty. He should have just accepted it, nodded because Derek was being vulnerable, but it didn't satisfy the aching in his gut that warned him of all the possibilities. But he huffed, because that was easy for Derek to say, and pushed him off as gently as possible, moving a few steps away for emphasis.

"Stiles." Derek's voice had dropped and was serious now, not comforting. "Please. Come sit with me for a minute. We need to talk." That one phrase made Stiles feel like his stomach had dropped into his feet and his lungs had collapsed, full of water. _We need to talk_. That was the phrase that ended relationships. Hell, he didn't even have a relationship and he was terrified of it. But Derek took his hand and led him over to some flatter rocks in the shade and sat, motioning for him to do the same.

"Stiles, breathe. You look like you're going to pass out on me." He did, watching Derek like he was going to kill him any second. He wanted to throw up.

"What did you want to talk about." It wasn't a question, it was clipped and short and angrier than it should have been, but Derek just nodded and looked to his hands. Why wasn't he angry? Stiles paled. What if this was just the escalation up to an even bigger blow up? What if he was just fueling the fire and Derek was going to start screaming any moment now?

"Stiles, I wasn't going to tell you this... I haven't told anyone this in a really, really long time. But I need you to know that this isn't some hookup or fling on the side." He paused, as if waiting for Stiles to confirm that he understood, and then took a deep breath. "Before I came to the ranch I was married. Her name was Kate, and we'd been married for three years, together for five. She was… cruel. She was possessive and controlling and abusive and just plain mean for the entire time I'd known her, but it was an arranged marriage so I tried to make it work. I ended up in the hospital because of her at least four times. She…" Derek stopped, his voice failing him, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Stiles was transfixed.

"I tried to kill myself to get away from her. More than once. It was hell on earth. Sidney rescued me and helped hide me while I got a divorce and it's because of her that I'm even still alive. This is all some sob story, I know, and I'm sorry I just… Kate was my first relationship and, until now, my only relationship. I didn't think I would ever remotely have feelings for someone after everything that happened. Just, please know. This isn't some joke or a fling to me. I wouldn't even be here, telling you this, if you weren't someone I cared about and wanted to trust, to be with." Derek sighed, wringing his hands.

"Sorry, that was probably too much and I shouldn't have said anything I just wanted you to know that you're different." There was a deathly beat of silence that seemed to punch Derek right in the gut and he looked like he was going to throw up or cry or both until Stiles swallowed hard.

"Thank you, Derek." Surprise flooded into Derek's face, like he couldn't believe Stiles even spoke to him but then he looked sort of hopeful? "I mean it. Thank you." Stiles repeated, still shaking. But Derek just stared at him, shocked and disbelieving.

"...what?" Stiles couldn't help it. He scooted closer and placed a hand on Derek's knee. Slowly, he made himself take a deep breath-he was scared, but Derek seemed to be too, no matter how weird that seemed.

"That couldn't have been easy to tell me. I never expected you to tell me anything, honestly, but thank you. So much. Just thank you." Derek suddenly nodded, snapping out of it, but still looked like he was close to tears.

"Hey," Derek's head darted up, like a startled animal, eyes wide. "Come here." Stiles held open his arms and Derek stared at him for a second like it might be a joke or something before leaning into him and hugging him. Stiles hugged him back, burying his face in the taller man's shoulder and breathing in his smell. They both waited the few minutes it took Derek to breathe and compose himself but Stiles didn't mind in the least. When they did pull away and start to gather themselves to head back, Derek hesitated.

"Wait. I want to prove it to you that it isn't going to change when we get back. Everyone will hit the sack early tonight because they'll be tired from the ride but those bunks out in the barn can't be comfortable. I'll leave my window open a crack-it's on the first floor. If you want, you can come join me after everyone goes to bed." Stiles couldn't help but smile. This wasn't the intense, sexy Derek from the night before but he liked it. Because this Derek was raw, and unsure, and maybe even a little nervous? But it was endearing. He nodded.

"I will." With a small smile, Stiles picked up the buckets again and they trekked back to the group. Liz greeted them, annoyed.

"About damn time. Where's the water?" Stiles panicked, trying to grasp for an answer because they hadn't practiced or agreed on one, but Derek just shrugged.

"We couldn't find the stream," Holy shit Derek was practically defending him. "Looked pretty hard but it must have been an echo." The group groaned but saddled the horses and continued on back to the ranch. They all looked right past Stiles, without a second thought. Except Derek.

Derek made lovey-dovey eyes at him the entire ride back whenever the others weren't looking. He seemed to love the way it made Stiles' cheeks heat up. Soon enough, Stiles was doing it back-biting his lip, rolling his eyes back in his head, and faking moans whenever he had the opening. Derek's eyes flared every time he did. When they arrived back, Stiles was honestly kind of shocked because with their little game it hardly felt like any time had passed at all, even though the sun was setting. Interns were scattered everywhere, all eating dinner or mulling about in the heat. Dinner, right! Stiles hadn't had a cooked meal since they left! But the interns didn't leave him anything except coleslaw, which Stiles wrinkled his nose at but grabbed some of before ducking into the shower.

The hands were back in the main house, washing the dirt off and grabbing some dinner of their own, but Stiles couldn't focus on that. He could only watch the sky in anticipation. When he stepped out of the shower clean, it felt like he was a new person. _Clean_ at last! It felt so good to be clean but he couldn't help being just a tad bit resentful at the loss. Because washing off the dirt and the sweat meant washing off that night in the dust with Derek, washing off the lingering touch on his skin. Clean was good, yes, but he hadn't wanted to lose that.

None of the other interns really liked or noticed him-thus the coleslaw-especially since he spent most of his time with the hands. None of them had even noticed he was gone, it seemed. So, with a bottle of water and no food, he left without so much as a hi and retreated up to the hayloft to eat in silence. From there, he watched the sunset. As the sky began to turn deep shades of orange and pink, he listened, waiting for the conversation near the house to die down and pretending that his heart didn't leap every time he thought it had. But then someone else would speak and ruin it. When it finally did die down, it was only about ten pm but they were all exhausted, he knew. He was too.

So, in the darkness, he crept along the paths towards the main house, stepping on the edges in the dead grass where it was quieter than the gravel. He knew the rough location of where the hands' rooms were, but he still examined every window he saw. Even basement ones. Two were open completely but, when he glanced in, he saw only a kitchen and a room with a couch in it. Finally, he got to a row of identical windows on the north side. One was cracked open. Just one. Carefully, he approached and slipped his fingers into the crack. Honestly, he expected the person inside to slam it closed on his fingers any second now-especially if it was Lance. But nothing happened, so he slid his fingers in enough to grab it. It was dusty but not locked. Slowly, He eased it open, bracing for a squeak or a creak that didn't come. When it was open, he whispered through it.

"Derek?" What if this was the wrong window? He heard movement and considered running but, before he could, Derek pulled the curtain aside and smiled. That smile turned all of his anxiety to dust.

"Hey, come on in." So Stiles stepped in through the window. Derek closed it behind him. The house was air conditioned, apparently, because it wasn't the sweltering ninety eight degrees that it was in the barn, but Stiles took a second to take stock of the room. It was relatively plain, actually. There was a bed with two pillows and one thin, black blanket. The walls were white with one or two posters for horse shows or rodeos from the seventies. Other than the clothes that were probably in the closet, it was bare.

"This is… homey?" Derek chuckled under his breath. God he loved that sound more than life itself, it seemed.

"It's temporary. We used to be up on the second floor before Sidney started renting rooms out and right now she's working on a basement with bedrooms because it'd be so much cooler without running the AC constantly. We'll be moving down there when it's finished in about a month." Stiles nodded, just looking around. It didn't seem to fit Derek, or his personality, which was unsettling even if he knew the reason.

"You wanted me to join you?" Derek smiled and shrugged. Wait, shrug? Did he not want him to? Had he changed his mind?

"I was going to offer a repeat of last night but I'm exhausted and I'm sure you are too. You are, however, welcome to share the AC and the bed." Derek plopped back down under the thin blanket on the bed and motioned for Stiles to join him. Oh. He was just tired, not mad. And… it was a twin bed, which made sense for a bunkhouse, but he still raised an eyebrow.

"What? You expected a six inch barrier between us?" Stiles rolled his eyes. Truthfully he didn't want any barrier, he just didn't want Derek to look at him like he was crazy for it.

"Gotta leave room for Jesus, Der." Derek laughed-good, a joke, lightening the mood right?-but rolled over.

"Suit yourself." Stiles didn't really care. He got into the bed beside Derek and tried to leave him space by putting their backs together but, after only a few minutes, Derek turned and spooned him, pulling him back against his body with an arm around his waist. Gently, he kissed the back of his neck.

"That's better. Goodnight, Angel." Stiles couldn't contain his grin.

"Goodnight, Der bear."

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Thanks for reading! As always, please favorite, follow, review, and share!


	8. Chapter 8

AN I don't own Teen Wolf or any of it's characters. Finally smut as promised! Trigger warning: mentions of rape/noncon but not explicit.

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The next morning he was woken by Derek, softly tracing his face. For a solid minute, he just lay there as still as possible trying to engrave that feeling in his memory. Derek's fingers on his skin…. When he relented and opened his eyes, Derek just smiled.

"Morning, Angel." Stiles smiled but didn't answer, still half asleep. He didn't think he would ever get used to that nickname, but he loved it. With no warning, Derek snaked his arms around him and pulled him onto his chest, kissing him. But it was soft and sweet, not hungry like before. And Stiles grinned because he couldn't imagine a better way to wake up.

"Morning." Derek smirked at him, clearly pleased he'd gotten a verbal response.

"That's better. Hey, you should get up soon. I want you to meet Sid." He nodded, watching Derek roll out of bed and pull on a clear pair of jeans and a T-shirt, but had no intention of getting up. His eyes glided over the muscled body Derek was slowly dressing with only slightly less innocent intentions. But Derek rolled his eyes.

"Get up sleepyhead."

"Nah, I'm good. I like the view from here." That made Derek laugh and, as he laughed, throw a pair of jeans and another clean shirt at him.

"Shut up," he smiled. "Get dressed, though, I want to get there before the others." With an actual reason, Stiles managed to pry himself out of the bed that smelled like Derek and tug on the clothes that, also, smelled like Derek. As soon as he was dressed, he followed Derek quickly out into the kitchen where an older woman was stirring a pot of something that smelled absolutely heavenly. She looked a good kind of old, that was wise and full of laughter not bitterness.

"Hey, Sid. Got room for one more mouth to feed this morning?" The woman, Sid, turned with a smile and a spatula.

"Good morning to you too, Der. Of course. The more the merrier, you know that. Who's this?" Suddenly, Stiles felt like a thousand spotlights had centered on his flesh on full power. He began to sweat, nervous, but Derek stepped up beside him and placed a hand on the small of his back where Sid couldn't see it. Instantly, he took in a breath.

"This is Stiles. Stiles, this is Sidney Kremaline. She's like a mother to us-and she is a mother to Liz." Stiles offered his hand to shake. That was what you did when you met someone, right?

"Nice to meet you, Lady Kremaline." But the woman shook her head and shooed his hand away, holding out a piece of bacon instead. It was meant for him, clearly, but Derek took it before Stiles could and gobbled it before she could say anything. She didn't look angry, though, she just smiled.

"Call me Sid. Any friend of Liz… Well, Liz is friends with everyone. But any friend of Derek's is a friend of mine. Besides, you're the famous Stiles I've been hearing so much about." Wait, famous? He wasn't famous, he was just Stiles Stilinski.

"About me? From who?" Sid smiled, glancing at Derek.

"Oh, everyone," she hummed, making it clear that Derek was a big percentage of _everyone_. "Liz, mostly, because she loves to tell me about new people. Some from others here and there. Tell me, Stiles, are you hungry?" Derek was already poking around in the pot on the stove but Sid shooed him away with a playful swat from the spatula.

"It's not done yet, Der. Be patient! Stiles? Hungry?"

"Oh, yes very. Um. Thank you." She smiled, like warm honey. It was familiar, comfortingly so, even though Stiles had only just met her.

"Have a seat, Stiles. I've heard all about you, of course, but tell me about yourself anyways. How was the trail ride? How did you sleep last night after such a long trip?" Stiles couldn't help but glance at Derek, who was smirking a bit. Had Derek told her that much about him? He felt like he might die of embarrassment if he had...

"I slept really well, thank you. The trail ride was absolutely amazing. I learned so much and tried so many new things…" At that, the pointed look he gave Derek did not go unnoticed but she neither seemed surprised or concerned, she just smiled. Maybe she did know?

"I'm glad to hear it. Lance behaved himself?" Finally, Derek cut in to give him a break and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. About damn time he took some of the heat.

"Yeah, for the most part. He threw a fit once or twice but wasn't bad." She nodded, laddling out what looked like scrambled eggs from the pot onto plates with bacon and sausages.

"Order up, get it while it's hot boys." Eventually, the others joined them. When they went to leave, she stopped Stiles halfway out of the door. He started to tell her that it was nice meeting her but she hushed him almost before he opened his mouth.

"Oh, stop that. I'll see you for lunch, yeah? Once I adopt a mouth to feed, I don't let them go hungry." Stiles was surprised but just nodded. "Derek will tell you. When he first got here he was skin and bones that boy, he'll tell you how we fattened him up." At that, Stiles had to smile.

"Oh, he's told me." There was a lower, more wistful quality to his voice that he hadn't meant to put there but she caught it and shot Derek a questioning look over Stiles' head. Derek nodded. Her sweet, grandmotherly face twisted momentarily in surprise. But was it bad surprise?

"Oh! Well, good for you, Der. I'm proud of you." A good surprise, then, hopefully. "And Stiles? If you hurt him, I'll slit your throat and bleed you dry just like one of the chickens, alrighty?" Stiles felt himself pale, stuck in place. He'd never been so terrified looking into the eyes of a middle age woman holding a scrub brush. Thankfully, Derek came up and placed a hand on his waist like before, directing him out of the kitchen with a smile to Sid.

"That won't be necessary, Sid, but thank you. We've got work to do. See you at lunch."

From that moment on, no one really questioned why Stiles was accepted as one of the hands or why he was always with them. Sid offered him the spare room at the end of the hall-a closet, she said, but it had a bed. Not a bunkbed, a bed. He gratefully accepted, knowing he would spend most of his time in Derek's room anyways. Everyone seemed happy to welcome him into the group-except Lance-but even Sid loved him so Lance was usually put in his place before it got out of hand. Stiles did everything with them, until he was basically one of them.

He spent almost every night with Derek. Sid came in to check on them, like she did for everyone else apparently, but never said anything about it. Never questioned when she saw Stiles draped over Derek's sleeping form, or when they were standing wrapped together at the window watching the sunset. It took one time for Derek made eye contact and tightened his grip on Stiles' waist. She never said a word again.

The closer he got to Derek, the more he learned. He traced the scars on Derek's wrists whenever he was anxious or lonely, knowing it would make Derek nuzzle into his chest and hold him close, and he memorized their shapes. After a while, he told Derek about Payton and Malia, and eventually about how surprised he was at what Derek could do to him and how easily he could do it. Derek learned every inch of his body and every strange tick or sensitive spot he had. Stiles memorized every scar on Derek's skin and what caused it to the point he could map them out in the dark like constellations. They hadn't had sex-not yet. But they had progressed to makeout sessions in their underwear and touching each other through the cloth. Stiles could tell that sex made Derek anxious and he didn't want to push that boundary. He never wanted to push Derek or make him uncomfortable.

But he'd thought it was off the table completely-not that he was upset by that-until Derek surprised him one night. Taking his hands, Derek led him out to one of the old, sealed up stalls in the back pasture that hadn't been used in years. Inside the third one, was a lantern hanging from the ceiling. There was a blow up kiddie pool on the ground? Stiles almost laughed until he saw the piles of blankets and pillows inside it and heard Derek close the door behind them. This… wasn't a joke?

"Der, what is this?" But Derek smiled and slipped off his shoes, stepping into the pool of blankets with no explanation.

"Come on." Stiles followed suit, confused, and climbed into the kiddie pool and sat down with Derek. Even though the ground was rock hard, the blankets softened it some. Was that the whole idea?

"What's happening here?" Derek just smiled at him, the edges softened by the lantern's light. He loved the way all of Derek's expressions could soften or harden depending on the moment and the reflection in his eyes.

"I'm sure you've noticed that we haven't had sex." Whoa wait, what? Stiles was startled but quickly tried to get back on his feet in the conversation.

"Yeah, I mean no! I haven't I mean I have but I don't- That isn't what-" Fuck Derek was going to kill him. He was going to recede back into his shell and never be vulnerable like this would Stiles again just because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. Derek just smiled and laughed.

"Stiles, it's okay. Relax. I was just going to say you probably noticed how anxious I get with it. It's because Kate-I'd never wanted to sleep with her, of course, but she wanted a child to carry the family tradition I guess-used to force herself on me and hurt me if I didn't do what she wanted. Understandably, that left a bit of a mark."

"Derek, we don't have to-" But Derek shook his head, his smile returning. Why was he so calm!? Stiles felt like he was going to hyperventilate and he wasn't even the one talking about how his wife had raped him!

"I know we don't. But I want to, with you. I really want to, and I have for a while now, but I trust you and I care about you so much… I want this, Stiles. And, if you want this too…" Derek didn't have to fill in the blank because Stiles did, a huge smile blooming across his face.

"Of course, Der. Of course I do." Again, Derek at him, genuine and sweet and not at all smug. Slowly, Stiles watched as he twisted his fingers into the hem of his shirt and dragged it up sexily off his body. _Beautiful_ , he thought. It wasn't the first time Stiles had seen him shirtless but he still drank it in just as greedily as if it was. But he was thrown violently back to seconds earlier, to what Derek said about Kate raping him to get pregnant, and he stopped Derek when he reached for the button of his jeans.

"Stiles? Everything okay?" Stiles nodded, but didn't explain. Instead, he locked his eyes with Derek's and, slowly, like he was putting on a show, dropped to his knees in front of the man.

"I know it's not your first time but… let _me_ make _you_ feel good for once." Derek hesitated, anxiety dancing across his face but he held still. After a second, he nodded in agreement. Stiles felt those beautiful eyes on him, watching, unblinking, as Stiles undid the button of his jeans and lowered the zipper. For a second, Stiles paused. Trying to remember this moment-the look on Derek's face and the way his breathing hitched-before he hooked his thumbs into the waist and pulled them down. Stiles kissed the inside of one of Derek's knees. It made the man shiver deliciously, which only worsened as Stiles continued up the inside of his thigh to his crotch. He pressed his lips against the material of Derek's underwear and watched Derek shudder with a little bit of satisfaction. He was doing this to the man. To his Derek.

"Angel?" Stiles hadn't realized how long he'd been kneeling there just lapping up the expression on Derek's face. Slowly, he tugged at the hem of the underwear. He looked up to Derek, questioningly, making sure he still wanted to do this, but Derek swallowed hard and nodded. Stiles gently lowered the last bit of cloth separating them. And felt his chest squeeze. Derek was… _gorgeous_. Stiles wasn't exactly a dick conasuir, having only been with girls thus far, but he had seen his fair share of porn and he was definitely impressed.

"What?" Derek sounded so worried, so anxious, that Stiles felt his heart ache for him.

"You're _gorgeous_!" Derek flushed instantly at the compliment. Stiles vowed to put that blushed tint in the man's face as often as humanly possible.

"You're sure you want to do this, Der?" He had to check one last time, but Derek just nodded again. "Good, because I don't think I could stop myself now.. Come here, sit. This is about you being comfortable and relaxed." Derek swallowed hard again, shaking a little, but sat as instructed and lay back on the blankets. He started to say something, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, but Stiles stopped him with a tender kiss.

"Look at me, Derek." Pale eyes met his and he didn't have to search to see the anxiety in them. "I will never hurt you. Never. If you want to stop just say the word, okay? I won't be upset or disappointed or anything like that if you want to stop. Do you trust that?" Derek nodded, forcing himself to breath. Slowly, Stiles kissed his jaw and then down his neck and then down his chest, drawing it out and lingering a little more each time. He watched Derek's cock twitch with each kiss and smirked against the skin of his stomach. Inch by inch, he crept closer and closer to the base of Derek's cock. He raised one hand and slid it up Derek thigh, running his thumb over the skin of Derek's balls and gently rolling them in his hand. They were so… attractive. Stiles had never really liked balls-much preferring the dick attached to them-so maybe it was because it was Derek's body but god he loved them.

Below him, Derek groaned, his eyes already closed. He was definitely going to enjoy this, he knew, as kissed all the way down and in a circle around the base. A pause, just long enough for Derek to take a breath. Then he licked from the base to the tip in one smooth, fluid motion that made Derek shiver deliciously under him. He planted a cute, lingering kiss on the head and moved his hands subtly upwards until he touched nipple. Just like before, it was the final touch he needed to make Derek go wild. With a pleased little smile, Stiles wet his lips and slid all the way down, taking Derek in until he felt his air supply thin. He began to bob his head up and down, tantalizingly slow at first but gaining speed. Derek panted above him, wriggling with every pass Stiles did over his nipples. Stiles sped up and gained momentum to the point that he had to wrap a hand around the base and pump just to keep up with his mouth. Derek moaned low in his throat and bucked his hips, trying to get deeper into Stiles mouth, though he couldn't fit any more of it. Stiles felt Derek's body begin to stiffen and twitch and knew he was close so he kept going, because he was honestly fine if this was all he did as long as he showed Derek that sex could-and was supposed to-feel good for him too. But Derek tangled a hand in his hair and pushed his head off of him.

"Sti- Stiles wait." he panted out a few breaths. "Wait." Stiles complied and slowed to a stop, sliding up Derek's body using the thin sheen of sweat as lubricant. Just inches from Derek's face, Stiles caught his breath while looking down into his eyes.

"What's wrong, Der bear? It's perfectly normal to cum, I promise, don't worry about-" But Derek shook his head.

"I'm not worried," he breathed. "I just don't want it to end so soon." That made Stiles smile before he even realized what his face was doing. Derek wanted to make it last longer! Suddenly, Stiles stopped and considered, studying Derek like he was some kind of puzzle. With Kate, the timid way Derek existed with him...

"Der, did sex make you feel powerless, like you didn't have control, before?" Derek's smiling crinkle to his cheeks melted away and he frowned. Clearly, this was not as enjoyable of a topic as before. But, he indulged him.

"I guess, why?" Stiles cocked his head at him.

"Because I don't want this to be remotely like that, in any way. If you want, you can take control. Of this, right now. Feeling powerless doesn't bother me, especially not when it's with you, but I want you to see how different this is." Slowly, hesitantly, Derek nodded.

"Yeah, you're right. Okay." Honestly Stiles was shocked he'd said that, even if he'd been thinking it, but he was even more surprised that Derek had agreed. But he was not complaining. Stiles moved off of him and settled onto his back, letting Derek's trembling hands pull off his shirt and then his pants. It took a minute or two, but Derek seemed to find his rhythm. By the time he got to Stiles' boxers, that glint was back in his eyes and it shot like a jolt of electricity to Stiles' dick. He opened his mouth to tell Derek how sexy it was when he was sure of himself and enjoying it but he didn't get the chance. A groan overtook his body as he watched Derek take off his boxers… with his _teeth_.

"God you're so hot." Derek just smirked at him, taking his already rock hard cock into his hand. Like Stiles had done, Derek licked and nipped up the inside of Stiles' leg but instead of moving his mouth to the pulsing dick he was currently pumping up and down, he moved his tongue lower. Stiles moaned when it touched his balls, the warm, wet friction making his spine tingle, but he all but screamed when it touched the tight bundle of nerves below it. Derek prodded the entrance with his tongue, earning an onslaught of cursing and begging from Stiles, but seemed more intrigued by his own experimenting than Stiles' reaction. It was weirdly hot, actually.

But the longer Derek pumped his cock, sliding his fingers just right over it every time, Stiles began to wonder how on earth he had ever had sex or masturbated before and thought that was it. This? This was heaven. This was romance novel worthy. Stiles was so distracted by the building in his gut that he almost didn't notice when Derek returned to rub and press his entrance with a lube slicked finger. Where had he gotten lube? But, to be honest, Stiles didn't really care. He had played with his ass hundreds of times, even owning a dildo that he used quite frequently before having to leave it at home when he came to the ranch. His muscles were tight and unused, but he knew his body. While Derek was slow and cautious, trying not to hurt him, Stiles knew what he could and couldn't handle. He shoved his hips down onto Derek's hand, taking the whole finger at once, and moaned again because he imagined it was Derek's cock. The thought alone made his dick throb but it made Derek's finger push out and back in again almost by itself. When Derek added a second, Stiles covered his mouth with his hand to muffle his moans. That, it seemed, only encouraged Derek, though who added a third and pumped his cock harder. Slowly, experimentally, Derek thrust his fingers in, reaching for something, but it wasn't far enough. The second time he did it, Stiles matched the motion with his hips and the collision was enough to send Derek's fingers into something _magical_. Stiles' saw white and lost control of his own body for a moment, shocked at just how _much_ that one spot made him feel. It made the tightness in his gut look like a feather touch. Derek reached for it again, finding it more and more skillfully, until Stiles felt like he was going to explode. He panted for Derek to stop but, when Derek did, he actually whined at the loss. He wanted-no, he needed-Derek to keep going.

"Want you-" he panted, pulling at Derek's arms.

"You're sure, Angel?" The nickname made his knees weak and he heaved his chest, trying to get enough air to speak.

"Yes- god please!" He felt Derek reposition over him and something large, thick, and hot pressed at his hole. He heard himself begging for it, but didn't remember speaking. Slowly, Derek eased himself into Stiles and good god it was enormous filling and stretching every part of Stiles to the point that he didn't realize he wasn't breathing.

"Angel, breathe. You okay?" Stiles took a second to adjust, just pulsing around Derek's cock and relishing the fact that this was actually happening. Derek was _inside_ him. But he nodded, looking up into Derek's eyes to make sure he believed him.

"Yes, I'm good. You can move." Derek smiled down at him, his eyes heavy and blown wide with lust, but the smile was oddly sweet. It was almost endearing and Stiles thought he might kiss him or confess some kind of love for him but Derek dropped down to whisper against his ear, drawing his hips back as he did.

"God you're beautiful. You're going to look even better when I fuck your brains out." Stiles just melted. He couldn't explain what about that was such a turn on-if it was Derek, the feeling of his whisper against his skin, or the promise of Derek fucking his brains out but he loved it. His body loved it. He didn't even get a chance to moan before Derek thrust his hips forward and drove his cock directly onto that one special spot. He hit it so hard that Stiles cried out. But the surprise gave way to absolute bliss when Derek did it again, gentler but with the same determination, and then again. In what felt like a matter of seconds, Stiles was a sweaty, writhing mess on the floor and the only thing containing his screams was burying his face in Derek's chest. It had probably been longer-he was so dangerously close to coming that it had to have been longer-but for the life of him he couldn't think or focus on anything except the electric pleasure from Derek pounding into him. From the grunts and intermittent moaning above him, he could tell Derek was getting close too. To test it, he clenched around Derek the next time he thrust and Derek nearly collapsed onto him, recovering just in time to catch himself and keep up his pace. Stiles couldn't breathe. Maybe it was because of how tightly he was pressing his face into Derek's chest but it felt like it was because of Derek. Even with a vibrator, Stiles had never felt even close to what Derek was making him feel.

"Fuc-! _Derek_ I-I'm clo-!" But he couldn't get the words out between thrusts and every time Derek slammed into him, his voice left him. Derek somehow understood, though, because he sped up and reached a hand around to Stiles' cock. It ached and throbbed and the second Derek touched it Stiles felt the point of no return.

"Der!" He tried again to warn him, tell him to slow down or give him a second. But Derek shook his head.

"It's okay- Come for me, Angel." That… That sent Stiles toppling over the edge into nothingness. His entire body felt like he'd done a dip in a rollercoaster-like gravity wasn't quite real and his body wasn't quite his to control. He could vaguely feel Derek still pumping into him, drawing out the weightlessness. He heard Derek groan. Suddenly, he was ripped back to consciousness and Derek became frantic, thrusting with abandon. Stiles didn't think an orgasm could get any better or any strong but when he felt Derek's hot cum shoot inside him, he bit into Derek's shoulder with a scream. His cock exploded, splattering all over his chest. A fucking tsunami of tingling pleasure crashed over him and every inch of his body felt like heaven. He didn't think he was breathing. He felt Derek still, catching his breath, and bow his head to press against Stiles' chest. Stiles couldn't move. He didn't want to move.

Slowly, he felt Derek pull out and was shocked by the sudden uncomfortable, clenching emptiness it left behind so much so that he whined. Derek was quick to return to his side, trying to figure out what was wrong, but settled for kissing him gently. He couldn't open his eyes, or he didn't try, but he felt Derek run something soft and cool along his skin, cleaning him. Only once he was completely clean did Derek stop and fall back down beside him. Before he even hit the blankets, Stiles was curling in and trying to get closer to him. It had been warm out before, and it still was, but the sudden cold of sweat and Derek's absence weighed on Stiles like anchors dragging him down. He was whimpering, he realized with surprise, but Derek didn't seem upset by it. Instead, Derek pulled him into his arms.

A blanket appeared over them, one of the many, and Derek tangled their limbs and pulled Stiles so that every possible square inch of skin was touching. With his head on Derek's chest, Stiles felt his heartbeat against his cheek. Gently, Derek ran his hands through Stiles' hair and rubbed comforting circles on Stiles' shoulder but it didn't matter. Stiles hadn't even fully come back to reality. Some amount of time passed-it was impossible to tell how much, at this point-but when Stiles finally did open his eyes it was because he finally felt like reality had returned. Derek was still looking down at him, stroking his hair, and he smiled when he met Stiles' eyes. It took a second, but Stiles realized that all of that had actually just happened. A huge, goofy grin spread across his face and it made Derek laugh.

"How are you feeling?" Stiles just grinned.

"Were you right?" Derek furrowed his brow at him in confusion. "Earlier. You said I would look even better after you fucked my brains out. Do I?" Derek's face broke into the biggest smile Stiles had ever seen on it and he laughed, shaking Stiles slightly.

"Yes, you do. You're so unbelievably gorgeous, Angel, I can't believe I'm actually here, like this, with you." Stiles grinned, still groggy. He let his head fall back to Derek's chest and snuggled into it like a pillow, preparing himself for the best night's sleep in a long time.

"I love you, Der bear." He felt Derek stiffen. A shot of anxiety burst through him-was that too far? Was Derek uncomfortable? Would Derek leave him now? But, then he felt Derek relax again. His hand returned to Stiles' hair and smoothed again, absentmindedly.

"I love you too, Angel." Derek kissed his forehead but Stiles wanted to cry. Derek, of all people, had just said he loved him. He hadn't run or yelled or been angry at Stiles for saying it-he'd said it back. Honestly, Stiles didn't think life could get any better.

"I don't want you to go." Why couldn't he stop saying shit like that!? He was doing to scare Derek away! But Derek hugged him a little reassuringly.

"Oh, Angel, I'm not going anywhere-"

"I mean ever. I don't want to you go, ever." Derek went quiet, thinking for a second.

"I'm not going anywhere," he repeated. "Ever." Stiles felt himself truly relax at that. He cuddled into Derek's chest and hugged him like a teddy bear or a security blanket until he couldn't tell where Derek ended and he began. Over and over again Derek ran his hands through his hair, lulling Stiles to sleep

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Thanks for reading! Updates might slow now that I'm writing and not just editing... but reviews/follows/favorites will encourage me!


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